spare, smart and whimsical, with a clean-shaved, small-featured face,
large, shining brown eyes, abundant and slightly-waving brown hair, that
could only be parted, with the sweetest sorrow, in the centre of
his well-shaped, almost philosophical head, and movements light and
temperate as those of a meditative squirrel. Having just dined he was
naturally in evening dress, with a butterfly tie, gleaming pumps, and
a buttonhole of violets. He shut the door gently, glanced at his
nice-looking grandmothers, and, walking forward very quietly and
demurely, applied his eye to the telescope, lowering himself slightly
by a Sandow exercise, which he had practised before he became a prophet.
Having remained in this position of astronomical observation for some
minutes, he deviated into the upright, closed the window, and tinkled
a small silver bell that stood on the tulip-wood table beside Malkiel's
_Almanac_.

Mr. Ferdinand appeared, looking respectfully buoyant.

"Has Mr. Malkiel sent any reply to my inquiry, Mr. Ferdinand?" asked the
Prophet.

"He has not, sir," replied Mr. Ferdinand, sympathetically.

"Did the boy messenger say he delivered my note?"

"He said so, sir, on his Bible oath, sir."

"And do you believe him?"

"Oh, sir!" responded Mr. Ferdinand, in a shocked voice, "surely a London
lad would not be found to tell a lie!"